


The 404 Tavern

by clarako_ (CoNic18)



Category: The Resident (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:15:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29320740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoNic18/pseuds/clarako_
Summary: Just some CoNic at The 404 Tavern over the years (:Can't promise timely updates, just whenever it comes to me. I'm so nervous for tonight's episode!! So here's some CoNic fluff and smut for y'all so we can have something to read after bawling our eyes out tonight...Hope y'all enjoy :D
Relationships: Conrad Hawkins/Nicolette Nevin
Comments: 7
Kudos: 23





	1. dorks go dancing

Nic wasn’t entirely sure if things had shifted from “casual maybe-dating” to “I’m starting to get addicted to you” after their third or fourth date, but the one thing that did stand out to her was the way they danced at the 404 Tavern sometime around then.

It had been a long day, patient cases were piling up, the ED was totally full, and for some reason, they felt short-staffed. Conrad was mostly working the ICU that day and it was a bit slower up there, so when he saw Nic practically running down the hallway, flustered, he knew that she’d had a rough day.

“Hey,” he greeted kindly as she was frantically typing something into a computer along the hall. He ghosted his fingers down the side of her arm, making her shiver. She turned, locking eyes with him, and instantly, she felt some of her stress begin to melt away. “Tough day today?” he asked softly, speaking quietly so they could keep their “not-relationship” on the down low for the time being as they sorted “whatever it was” out.

“Yeah, just stupidly busy. We need more nurses in there,” she replied, shaking her head slightly as she spoke.

“I hear you,” he replied, “you are invaluable.”

She wasn’t sure if he was talking about all nurses or just her, but his comment made her blush anyway. Okay, maybe she was in far deeper than she previously thought.

“Hey, since we’re both off tomorrow, how about we grab some drinks at the 404 and then crash?” he suggested, almost tentatively. He always had this air of confidence and certainty around him—it was hot and sometimes infuriating—but around her, that wall seemed to break down just a little. It amazed her that _she_ could possibly make a dent in his armor.

She was tired. But when he suggested the 404, she felt giddy again. Their “thing” (relationship) was new, and the day they met at the Tavern was fresh in her mind. She probably would have fucked him in the alley if he hadn’t left that day, because honestly, she was so turned on by their first interaction. And as she stood there, Conrad awaiting her reply, she felt loved and she felt comforted. She was also looking forward to dancing and drinking and laughing with him. But that new feeling of having someone pay attention and notice when you’re not feeling your best or had a rough day—she couldn’t shake that. And she didn’t want to. She wanted more of it.

“Yeah,” she breathed, her thoughts whizzing around almost made her short of breath. “I’d like that,” she added, her voice a little lower.

She saw his eyebrows raise slightly, and she blushed at her own lack of restraint around him. He smiled his dorky and adorable Conrad smile, nodded, and husked a “meet you after your shift,” into her ear, his hand gently almost-touching her lower back before he dashed away down the hall and back up to the ICU. She was breathless and flustered and oh fuck, the things he made her feel.

Yeah, she was in really really deep.

~•~•~•~

As the end of her shift finally approached, she worked on handing off her patients to the incoming nurse team, and then she was off to have drinks with her “not-boyfriend,” and she _definitely_ “wasn’t over-the-moon excited.” Right. Totally. Pfft.

As if he was some kind of psychic, he appeared behind the corner of the hall just as she was coming around. “Hey you,” she remarked, that tiredness in her voice from earlier almost entirely gone. It was replaced with giddiness, and she had to mentally scold herself for sounding like a teenager.

“Hey,” he mirrored. Okay maybe she wasn’t the only giddy one here.

“Ready to head out?” she asked, stopping an acceptable distance away from him so the passerby wouldn’t start asking questions.

“Yes ma’am,” he replied, tipping an imaginary hat.

“You’re a dork,” she giggled, stepping just a little closer to him.

“Maybe, but I’m your dork,” he replied, teasing but also not. He had a way of doing things like that. Saying things that made her heart skip a beat and her stomach do a million flips. He rendered her speechless dozens of times, whether it be their first date, hiking at Sweetwater when he suddenly and out of nowhere gave her the cutest little bouquet of blue wildflowers, or if it was the way he looked at her during hospital staff meetings like “I want to devour you right now in front of all these people.” He was an enigma, but he was her enigma. She could see herself spending a lifetime trying to unravel and discover everything about him and— Shit.

“And I yours,” she replied, not entirely sure how to respond to him. But oh, that seemed to do it. He blushed like a schoolgirl, and her eyes went wide. Did they just communicate that they’re kind of officially dating through mutual ownership of each other’s dorkiness? Quite possibly, yes.

~•~•~•~

The Tavern was _packed_. As they walked in, hand-in-hand (they would say it was they didn’t get separated in the mosh pit, but they really just liked holding hands) they made their way to the bar so they could grab some drinks first. A Greyhound for Nic and an IPA for Conrad had them both feeling a little warmer, and another round had them both a little bolder and flirtier.

One of his hands had taken up residence on her thigh, and it was slowly traveling higher as they worked on their second drinks. She was increasingly becoming distracted by his touch, unable to focus on what the hell he was saying as his fingers swirled against the fabric of her jeans. When it all became almost unbearable, she grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and kissed him (not some sissy kiss, no honey this was one _hell_ of a kiss). He was droning on about who the fuck knows, and she just couldn’t help herself. She could blame it on the alcohol, though they both knew that wouldn’t be true. Neither was even tipsy at that point.

“Oh hello,” he teased after she had finally pulled away. “Mm, your drink tastes nice,” he added, smirking as he really meant _you taste nice_.

She blushed, again not quite sure how to respond. She sipped the last remnants of her drink, and pulled him up to stand. “Dance with me?” she asked, her voice mostly air because she was still breathless from that kiss.

“Of course,” he replied, flushing slightly as she closed the distance between the two of them, wrapping her arms around his neck as his hands settled low on her hips. She was wearing a black and white flannel over a black tank top, paired with dark blue jeans and her favorite “well-loved” pair of black chucks. He’d never really noticed how she managed to look positively stunning in everything, but recently, he’d been definitely noticing. She was just gorgeous all the time—in her casual clothes, in dirty scrubs at the end of a 12-hour shift, and he was sure she looked even better in nothing at all. Yep, they hadn’t done the no-pants-dance yet. But that sure as hell doesn’t mean that they didn’t think about it (they thought about it way too often, honestly).

Conrad was sex on legs. He had good fashion sense, and holy fuck he always smelled divine. She was close enough to smell him—some of it was hospital smell, but she could still distinguish _him_ from it—and she wasn’t shy about it as she dipped her head down and laid a kiss against his neck, letting _him_ invade all of her senses. He was wearing a pair of black jeans and black shoes, and on top he had on a dark green t-shirt (she secretly loved him in green, it’s what he wore when they first met).

His hands tightened on her waist as she kissed him again, shamelessly, in front of the whole bar. Once her soft lips left his neck, her sparkling chocolate orbs met his. He smiled at her, and she smiled back.

“Shall we?” he asked, his voice deeper than it was just a few minutes ago, and her legs felt weak, but she nodded anyway. He guided her through the mess of people until they found their own dark little corner of the room. The music was loud, but over it all, their heartbeats felt louder. He pulled her close, and before she could even start to move, he spun her around and pressed her back to his front. She gasped slightly, almost inaudibly, at his maneuver, and then again, this time not so quietly, as he kissed behind her ear.

She hummed and began to slowly move to the music. His fingertips pressed harder into the fronts of her thighs, and she smiled at his response to her. His face dipped down again by her ear, and he husked an “is this okay?” into her ear.

“God yes, this is good. Really good,” she replied, lifting one of her hands up above her head so she could hold his head near to hers as she sought his lips. _Really good_ , yeah understatement of the century. It was fucking incredible. The angle wasn’t great, but they made it work until they were breathless and needed to pull away to coax oxygen back into their lungs.

“Yeah, this is really good,” he said gruffly against her skin. She shivered visibly as electricity shot down her spine. She glanced around momentarily at the other people in the room, noticing just how in their own little bubbles everyone was. Some were dancing in a larger group while others were taking the heat up to max and grinding and thrusting and some it looked like were three seconds away from fucking. Her temperature rose, and feeling particularly frisky, she began grinding tentatively against him. She didn’t miss the little noise he made as her ass pressed back into his groin, and fuck, she wanted to hear it again.

“Holy shit,” he cursed, his hands rising slightly higher so they were against her hipbones.

“Good holy shit or bad holy shit?” she paused as she asked, turning her head slightly so she could see him.

“Really fucking good holy shit. God yes, keep going,” he replied, his voice thick and wow so sexy. She blushed hard. Yeah okay she fucking loved turning him on. She bent forward slightly, angling her hips against his just right, and she gave him a couple slow circles.

She was completely lost in him. The other people in the Tavern, the music, the atmosphere—it all disappeared. It was just Nic and Conrad.

She shifted her hips slightly, pressing her entire back and ass against him, effectively getting as close as possible to him. “Jesus,” he huffed against her, “Nic, this is really hot.”

“Mm, yeah, this is really doing it for me,” she replied, her breath a little heavier, her panties a little wetter. She kept moving against him, and he met her movements with his own. A little whimper escaped her throat, and oh shit, she felt his cock twitch inside his pants.

He breathed hard against her cheek, tilting his head down so he could kiss and nip her neck as she relentlessly ground against him. She could feel him getting harder as she worked him up, and it was spurring her on.

“Fuck, Nic,” he practically panted. But he couldn’t let her have all the fun, so he inched one of his hands up higher on her torso. He unbuttoned the bottom two buttons of her flannel, asking her “is this okay?”

“Yes, yeah, very okay, mhmm,” she affirmed, her chest nearly heaving. “It’s getting kind of hot in here,” she added, circling her hips harder and faster. For a moment, his fingers faltered as they attempted to carry out his mission of getting her out of her flannel. That woman _did things_ to him. But soon, he regained his composure and finished his task. He pushed the garment down one of her shoulders so he could kiss her there, trying to remain as not dirty as possible (which was really fucking difficult when she was grinding like mad on him). His hand skirted below her ribs, and goosebumps erupted all over her skin even though she was sweltering hot. She hummed and whimpered again, her own movements faltering just a bit as she felt her legs go weak at his touch.

She almost couldn’t believe this was really happening. She never took herself to be the girl who was almost fucking in a bar. But Conrad Hawkins. Mm mmm. The way he was thrusting against her and the way his fingers ran against her like she was a piano made her feel like she was losing her mind.

“Shit, you’re so fucking sexy,” he practically growled as his thumb brushed against her already tight nipple. She gasped at his featherlight touch.

“Mm, you’re not so bad yourself,” she teased, tipping her head back to nip at his earlobe.

“Nic, if we don’t leave soon, I just might have to have you right here,” he whispered against her skin before chasing her lips with his and kissing her dizzy. She felt the same. She was two minutes away from pulling his pants down in front of the whole Tavern.

“Fuck,” she groaned and he growled at her expletive. “Let’s get out of here,” she added, turning around in his arms so she could kiss him properly. She also properly felt how hard he was, and she felt a small sense of pride that she caused his arousal. But that was a predicament. How were they supposed to leave when he was so obviously hard as a rock? He must have had the same thought because he looked around, thinking of a plan.

“Here, you can hold my flannel,” she said, shrugging the material off the one shoulder it was still on and handing it to him to cover himself.

“Thank you,” he replied, leaning forward to kiss her. “You won’t be too cold?” he asked, finding her hand with his one not holding the flannel and squeezing it.

“No, no, being cold is the last thing I’m worried about,” she giggled, feeling her cheeks heat up again. “Thank you,” she added, squeezing his hand back.

They had begun to make their way out of the still-crowded bar, but they were stopped by a couple voices calling out their names. They paused, looking at each other and wondering who was yelling at them. And then they saw them. At a table against the wall, Irving, Mina, Jess, and a few other folks from Chastain sat, all sharing drinks and laughs.

“Nic! Conrad! Hey!” Jess squealed.

They were _so_ busted. Conrad held Nic’s flannel close to his body, still very obviously very hard, but they had no choice but to go over and say hello.

“I didn’t know you guys were here,” Irving remarked as they made their way through the crowd to stand next to their Chastain gang.

“We didn’t know you guys were here either,” Nic replied, letting go of Conrad’s hand reluctantly.

“I also didn’t know you guys were a thing!” Jess exclaimed, giggling as she gestured between the two of them and at Conrad holding Nic’s shirt. Mina nearly choked on her drink.

“Oh… um… well…” they both stuttered, looking at each other for help.

“You guys are adorable!” Jess interrupted, closing her eyes right and nearly vibrating with excitement. “Okay okay, we’ll leave you two lovebirds alone,” she added with a wink.

“Jess!” Nic cried, blushing hard as Conrad shifted uncomfortably between his feet.

“Use protection!” Mina added, snickering, and Jess giggled as Irving straightened his spine and raised his eyebrows.

“Very funny, guys,” Conrad responded as he rolled his eyes. Nic smiled sheepishly, trying to will the color in her cheeks to calm down.

“Hey, with the way you guys were over there ‘dancing,’” Mina began, holding her fingers up in air quotes around the word ‘dancing,’ “I’m surprised you didn’t shag right there for us all to see.”

Yikes.

“Well, on _that note_ , we should probably head out,” Nic added, her voice small as she found Conrad’s hand with hers and began to tug him away from the table. They quickly disappeared into the crowd again, and they were very soon out the door, laughing like two fools in love.

“You all know they’re probably banging right now, right?” Mina added, desperately trying not to laugh and spit out her drink as she took a sip.

“They’d make cute babies,” Jess added.

“Okay, is there anything else we can talk about besides Nic and Conrad fucking?” Irving asked, feigning disgust, and the entire table erupted in laughter.

~•~•~•~

“You know they’re probably talking about us right now, right?” Nic teased as she made her way to the passenger-side door of her car, having never let go of Conrad since they left the Tavern.

“Mm, let them talk,” he replied gruffly, turning her around so she was pressed against the car door, and kissed her completely breathless.

“Okay, hotshot,” she began, panting slightly, “get in the car so we can get the hell out of here.”

“Eager much?” he teased.

“I could just leave you like this,” she replied, cocking her eyebrow up. “I could just drop you off and go home. That is an option,” she added, watching his eyes darken.

“I’m getting in the car,” he replied quickly, side-stepping her so he could open the door and get in as fast as possible.

She giggled and rolled her eyes, walking around to the other side of the car and getting in herself.

“You’re such a tease,” he remarked, grinning like an absolute idiot as he sat in her car and stretched his legs out, attempting to find some way to sit comfortably.

“Like you’re not,” she quipped as she started the car.

A peaceful silence fell over them then. This was something real. _They_ were something real. She parked in her driveway and took her keys out of the ignition. They listened to the sounds of the car whirring down before glancing up towards each other.

“Hey,” she said softly.

“Hey,” he replied the same.

“Is this still okay?” she asked, hesitance and trepidation in her voice.

“Yes, yeah, absolutely,” he replied, his hand covering hers on the center console. “You okay?” he mirrored.

“Yes, definitely,” she replied, breathless already.

“Okay,” he stated.

“Okay,” she repeated.

They exchanged smiles before entering her house. He didn’t make comments about how he liked the design of her place or how it was ‘so her’ this time because all of his focus was on her instead. He had ideas about how he had wanted their first time together to go, and in those visions, he’d had a lot better stamina because he wouldn’t have been so hard for so long. He wanted to make her come first, but she definitely had other ideas. They had barely made it inside before she was on her knees and had her mouth on him. He came embarrassingly fast, and they were both still almost fully clothed. So their first time was fast and messy and hot.

Their second was that same night, just a few hours later. They had elected to watch a movie, but that idea was quickly abandoned as their proximity and newfound intimacy got the better of them. He undressed her slowly, and she did the same. She walked him to her bedroom, naked as the day she was born, and kissed and explored him thoroughly and slowly. She wanted to taste every inch of his skin, and he wanted the same. He laid her down gently on her sheets, and his hands and lips traced every curve and crevice of her body. The first time he made her come, she felt light and happier than hell. She couldn’t wipe her grin off her face, even when he moved his face back up towards hers from where he had previously been between her legs. He smiled back at her, and she had wondered how the fuck she lived before seeing him smile like this, hovering above her, the taste of her still strong on his tongue, and happy as she’d ever seen him. They checked in about consent again and then about both being clean and having birth control ready.

And then it happened. He pressed his hard cock against her wet pussy, and then they were joined together. It felt amazing, and they took their time, Conrad setting a slow and deliberate pace as they both became accustomed to each other for the first time as new lovers. He was generous and kind and patient, and to her surprise, she came around him with a heavy sigh as she dug her nails into his shoulders. He came not long after, and she held him close and watched as he reached his highest high, feeling her heart swelling along with her arousal. They kissed lazily late into the night, after cleaning up and grabbing a bite to eat and turning off the TV with the movie they had completely abandoned.

“Please tell me we’re going to do that again,” he whispered into her hair as he held her close and tangled his legs with hers.

“Sex?” she asked, amused, lifting her head to see his eyes in the low light of her bedroom.

“Well, yes, that too, but I kind of meant the whole night,” he clarified, chuckling before laying a kiss on her forehead.

“Mm, I’d like that,” she replied, her voice soft as she nuzzled closer to him.

“Yeah?” he breathed, holding her a little tighter, feeling her heartbeat against his own.

“Yeah,” she affirmed, smiling against his skin before they both began to succumb to sleep.

Yeah, they’d be doing _all that_ again.


	2. 12-ball, corner pocket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 02x03, ohh how I love this episode! I had some good fun with this one, so I hope you all enjoy XD

“Hey,” Conrad greeted, brushing his hand across Nic’s shoulders as he came up behind her before leaning over her back and planting a solid kiss on her lips.

“Hey,” Nic replied, her voice light, her smile wide.

“Happy six months,” he announced as he sat down at the stool next to her.

“I’m pretty sure we’ve been going out longer than six months,” she teased, leaning towards him playfully.

“Yes, we have, but we’ve only been going out for six months since both saying we love each other,” he replied, knowing that he was cheesier than a dairy convention.

He handed her one little stock of blue wildflowers.

Damn, he was certainly a keeper.

God, she loves him so much. He’s cheesy, but he’s so sweet. He’s just a little clumsy––he can do all these incredible things, then he goes and trips over the stairs and sprains his ankle. He’s completely incapable of writing anything legibly––she has taken up just guessing the items he writes down on the grocery lists he makes before they spend weekends cooking together. He can’t sing for shit––she swears he’s tone deaf. And he absolutely sucks at pool even though he pretends to be good. But she loves him. All of him.

She was speechless. She took the flowers and took his hand next.

“Conrad––“ she began, but nothing could even possibly come close to expressing the magnitude of love she was feeling. “God, I can’t believe all that happened _here_ six months ago.”

“I am so glad you came that day.”

“I’m so glad you were so patient with me that day.”

> **SIX MONTHS AGO**
> 
> She was nervous. He loves her, and she said “I know you love me.” She _didn’t_ know that, so why the fuck did she say it? Does she love him back? Fuck. Of course she does.
> 
> “Come on Nic, that’s the part where you’re supposed to say, ‘I love you, too.’ Stupid, stupid, stupid––“ Nic muttered to herself as she typed her notes from the patient she was helping earlier that day into the computer.
> 
> “Everything okay?” a voice asked, snapping Nic out of her thoughts.
> 
> “Oh––“ it was Mina. She wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or horrified. “Um, how much of that did you hear?”
> 
> “Enough to know that you need to meet me in the cafeteria after your shift and we need to talk about it,” Mina replied, watching her best friend fiddle with her badge on her scrub top.
> 
> Horrified it was.
> 
> And, she wasn’t getting out of this one. Mina was giving her the _no bullshit_ stare. “Okay,” she said meekly. “Thirty minutes?”
> 
> “Works for me.”
> 
> Shit.
> 
> Thirty minutes of agony.
> 
> “Hey,” Nic breathed nervously, holding out a cup of coffee for Mina.
> 
> “Talk to me,” Mina replied. No small talk here.
> 
> “Okay, here we go.” Deep breaths, remember in for four, hold for four, out for four, repeat. She sat down. “Conrad and I went to a patient’s home earlier today to see if there was some sort of environmental cause for their presentation. Conrad had kind of an intuition, and he’s pretty much always spot on when it comes to his little intuitions, so I went with because they were our patients.” Okay, this isn’t so hard.
> 
> “Right, I’m following.” Mina was all business for sure.
> 
> “We ended up talking, these two patients having brought up some, well, stuff from the past—“
> 
> “Like what happened at the 404 a few months back?” Mina interrupted. Damn, she really meant 100% business. No wiggle room here.
> 
> “Yes...” Nic hesitated in her response. That was a horrid day. It plagues her memory and makes her think ‘what if’ in a hundred different ways. What if she hadn’t come after him in the bathroom. What if she hadn’t let that other guy come onto her. What if she had stopped Conrad from leaving. What if what if what if. _I can’t do this anymore_ , she had said. Her movie marathon plans were replaced with her sitting facing her empty television screen holding an empty bottle of wine with an empty heart. Her life was turned upside down twice in the matter of one week—first her miscarriage then her breakup—and she was a complete mess. She tried to push those memories out of her mind, but they always seemed to find a way to creep back in. And yet, she loved him. She loved him, and she wanted to be with him. She loved him and knew that they weren’t ready yet. But maybe they were ready now. Maybe they were ready two hours ago when he told her he loved her. Maybe, just maybe, she could let him fully back into her heart—let him eradicate the emptiness that still plagued her.
> 
> “Hey, I kind of lost you there. Where’s you go?” Mina asked, gently this time. She knew this was delicate, and she respected her best friend immensely.
> 
> “Sorry, just thinking about that time. That night. I keep trying to rework it and redo things so they wouldn’t end up like how they are now,” Nic replied, bringing two fingers up to pinch the bridge of her nose as she sighed and closed her eyes. “I wish it were different.”
> 
> “You want now to be different?” Mina asked, her gaze locked on her blonde friend.
> 
> “I— I think I’m scared to admit it and scared to want it, but yeah. I do,” Nic replied, opening her eyes to meet Mina’s.
> 
> There’s a kind of understanding that two good friends share—a look, a smile, an eyebrow raise. Nic and Mina loved each other to bits. They trusted one another, and they could always count on each other. It’s rare to find someone like that. They hold onto each other for dear life.
> 
> “He told me he loves me today, and I didn’t say it back,” Nic finished, leaning back in the creaky hospital cafe chair as she blew a breath out from her lips, releasing some of her tension with it.
> 
> “Well, are you in love with him?” Mina asked, placing her elbows on the table and leaning towards Nic. 

“You just walked right up to me and said it like it was the easiest thing in the world,” Conrad remarked, playing with her fingers as he held her hand under the bartop.

“It all clicked for me then. About how all those little things I loved about you became big. How you remember the flowers you picked for me on our first date. How you know to never _ever_ wake me up early on Saturday morning. How you deal with my inability to properly salt any meal. How you make me feel better when I’m down or stressed or upset. How you value me at work and at home. How you love me, too,” Nic replied, pausing momentarily before continuing. “This place has a lot of memories. We’ve grown a lot over this past year and a half.”

“God, I love you, Nic.”

“I love you, too, Conrad.”

> **SIX MONTHS AGO**
> 
> “I—“
> 
> “Stop overanalyzing it, Nic. Tell me how you feel,” Mina interrupted. “Tell me some of the things that come to mind when you think of Conrad.”
> 
> “Well, the first word that comes to mind is brilliant—annoyingly so. Also, caring—he is an amazing doctor—“
> 
> “Outside of medicine,” Mina pushed.
> 
> Nic swallowed. “He’s one of my favorite people on this planet.”
> 
> Mina sat back in her chair. There was absolutely nothing she could say to that. She just needed to wait for her best friend to say what was on her mind.
> 
> “He’s one of my favorite people on this planet,” Nic repeated. “And I do love him. No question about it.”
> 
> Mina smiled. “I know you do.”
> 
> Nic returned the smile. “Feels good to say it. Thanks for helping me sort through all this, Mina. You’re an amazing friend.”
> 
> “No need to thank me yet. Go talk to your boy,” Mina replied, shrugging off Nic’s compliment by going in for a quick hug.
> 
> “Did they already leave for the 404?” Nic asked, glancing at her watch and noting the time.
> 
> “They probably just left a few minutes ago,” Mina answered, glancing up at Nic as she remained in her seat. “Well, what are you waiting for, get your ass up and moving!”
> 
> Nic giggled, collecting her things and pouring the last bit of bitter hospital coffee down her throat. “Thank you. I mean it. You’re the best.”
> 
> “Love you too, Nevin. Now go before I kick you out of here myself,” Mina teased.
> 
> Nic attempted to roll her eyes, but she was smiling far too wide for Mina to notice her gesture.

“I just can’t believe you challenged me to a round of pool right away,” Nic giggled as she pulled away from his lips.

“Only mistake I made that night was thinking I could take you down,” he smiled, too. He lost all three rounds they played—even with the little interlude in the middle where they took a few minutes to make out behind the jukebox. But having her there, he didn’t feel like he lost a damn thing. In fact, he felt as though he won everything.

“Well, what do you say to a little hat tip to our second first date?” she probed, slipping off her stool and swinging his around so he was facing away from the bar.

“And have you wipe the floor with me again?” he teased.

“I’ll teach you how to not suck,” she offered. “Hands-on learning,” she added, her voice pitch increasing as the oxygen in the room seemed to fizzle away.

“Oh? Well, how could I say no to that?” he replied, stepping down off his stool, scooping her up into an embrace as he inhaled her scent and left a lingering kiss below her ear—just where she loved it.

> **SIX MONTHS AGO**
> 
> She made her way into the Tavern, glancing around everywhere until her eyes landed on a familiar figure, stretched out over the pool table, all poorly lined up and crooked. Her heart fluttered in her chest. Her legs carried her over there before her brain could tell her to slow down, and before she knew it, she had uttered a small, “hey.”
> 
> Conrad turned around, disregarding whatever crazy shot he was trying to take as he stood, the cue whacking the balls this way and that all over the table. He cleared his throat. “Hey,” he remarked, his eyes wide. “You’re here,” he added, the shock in his voice not very well concealed at all.
> 
> “I’m here,” she mirrored, no shock present in her voice. She wanted this. She wanted him. She looped her arms around his waist, turning so she was leaning her back against the edge of the table. “I love you, too,” she added, her voice soft yet strong.
> 
> She was serious. She came. She loved him, too. Just like he loved her.
> 
> _This time it will be different because I’ll be different. Do the work, get the help— Nic, you make me want to be a better person. That’s one of the reasons why I love you._
> 
> “And I do think it will be different this time,” she continued, watching the shock in his eyes melt into pure bliss.
> 
> He smiled as be blew out a breath through his nose, so utterly happy he had absolutely no idea how to react.
> 
> She smiled and giggled, too.
> 
> He threaded his fingers through her golden waves, drawing her eyes up to meet his before he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, tasting the words “I love you” fresh on her tongue. God, it felt so good, kissing his soulmate.
> 
> They pulled apart, gently pressing their foreheads together before he pulled back to look at her again. This woman who he loves with every single cell in his body loves him, too. This didn’t mean that things will always be easy between them, but he knows they’ll both fight for each other. Because this is something real.
> 
> He pulled her into his embrace again, and she rested her head against his shoulder, hearing him say the words “I love you, too,” quietly against her neck. She smiled, and he felt it.
> 
> This was real.
> 
> They pulled apart again, remembering that they were in public, and he stepped back just a bit so their bodies were no longer fully pressed together. He glanced down at the pool table, smirking before asking, “are you ready to go down in defeat?”
> 
> She scoffed, her smile crinkling up the corners of her eyes, “mm, people may change, but I’m not so sure you’re pool game can be saved.” Her tone was playful and light. His heart skipped a beat.
> 
> “Ooh, those are fighting words,” he teased, “here, watch this. 12-ball, corner pocket.”
> 
> “Difficult shot,” she began, evaluating his move, “I seem to remember you missing that one a lot.”
> 
> He looked up at her, something so serious in his eyes. “Not this time,” he said quietly, offering her a sincere smile.
> 
> She knew he wasn’t talking about pool.
> 
> He took that shot and made it.
> 
> She knew that this wasn’t just a game.
> 
> They played three rounds, but needless to say, they didn’t stay too long after that. They rushed out of that building, tossed Conrad’s bike in the back of her car, drove to her place, and sat and talked and kissed all night long. It was exactly what they needed. They were in love, and they were back together solidly.
> 
> They were going to make it this time.

They made their way to an empty pool table, each grabbing a cue before fishing the balls out of the pockets and tossing them to the center of the table. Conrad began setting up the balls, the smile that had adorned his features from earlier having never faded.

She watched him. God, she loved just watching him. He was a beautiful man, and she had no problem anymore having everyone around her know just how much she loved him.

“You want to break or should I?” he asked, bring her back to him from her trance land.

“Go for it,” she replied, far breather than intended.

He smirked, though she could see he was flustered, too. He shuffled into position, and he broke, sending all the colored balls everywhere, sinking two stripes.

“You know, it’s a miracle you can hit anything with form like that,” she teased , leaning slightly over the table.

“Well, why don’t you come over here and show me how it’s done.

Is it hot in here? It feels like it’s getting real hot.

She unbuttoned her flannel and shrugged it off her shoulders so she could tie it around her waist.

He swallowed thickly.

“Line up for your next shot, and let me fix you up,” she said as she held his eye contact. This was going to be one long ass game.

He did as he was told, spreading his legs as he bent forward. Lord. She inhaled a shaky breath before coming right up behind him and placing her hands on his arms from around his back. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, his scent filling her nostrils and making her drunk off him. God, she wanted to kiss him right then, but she had a task to focus on.

“Lower,” she instructed, guiding the back end of his cue down slightly. “There,” she affirmed once he made the slight adjustment. She reluctantly stepped away from his body so he could make his shot, and he did so, sinking the next striped ball.

“Damn,” she remarked, smiling as he turned around and grinned back at her.

“You might lose this one after all,” he teased as he walked around to the other side of the table.

“Careful Hawkins,” she teased right back, “don’t get too cocky. I haven’t even taken a shot yet.”

He smirked at her, and she rolled her eyes playfully. Good God, she loved him so much.

She walked around to the opposite side of the table, running her fingers through her hair and tossing it to the other side, and he glanced up at her just before he set up. Mistake. The cue slipped off the hand he had been bracing it on, and it whacked the cue ball, moving it just a hair.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

“Oops,” she replied in feigned innocence. “Well, I guess it’s my turn after all.”

“You’re dirty,” he remarked, coming right up close to her.

“I told you I’d help on your form, but if you can’t keep your eyes off me, well, that’s not on me,” she quipped, gently pushing him out of her way as she lined up to take her first shot. He watched her as she leaned forward over the table, and it was maddening. It took positively every ounce of self-restraint to not jump her right then, but this sort of torturous _almost_ was fun in and of itself.

She sunk her first two balls, lining up to take her third shot when Conrad finally was shook from his mind-wandering episode.

“Not so far ahead are we now?” she teased as she got ready to take her shot. She pulled the cue behind her back, lifting her hip slightly so she was half-sitting on the edge of the table, and flicked her gaze up to his. He looked like he was going to tear all her clothes off and fuck her right there against the table, and she felt a buzz of arousal reverberate through her body.

“Don’t get too cocky, now,” he remarked, noting the difficulty of the shot as well as her momentary wavering in her _I don’t give a fuck_ facade.

“It’s cocky when there’s a chance that you could blow it,” she began, internally chuckling at her choice of words, “but if you know you’re going to make it, it’s just telling the truth.” She hit the cue ball and sunk her third ball.

Now if that wasn’t the sexiest thing he’s ever seen, he has no idea what is.

She stood, walking around to the side of the table where he stood completely frozen. “Your turn,” she whispered against his cheek, lingering there just a moment, watching his hands twitch against his sides as he fought to not grab her and slam her against the wall. Oh, she’d be fucked good tonight.

He swallowed when she finally pulled away. He tugged briefly at the collar of his t-shirt, taking a deep breath as she smirked. He took a minute to evaluate the table, four balls remaining for both him and her. She’d already caught up, but he sure as hell wasn’t going down without a fight.

“Watch this, hotshot,” he began, leaning forward and setting up, “12-ball, corner pocket.”

“Mm, difficult shot,” she hummed, placing her hand on her hip. “You sure about that?”

“Positive,” he replied, focusing entirely on not looking up at her. He lowered the back end of his cue before taking his shot. The cue ball just slightly brushed the 12-ball, causing it to slowly roll. She had no idea how, but it managed to just barely make it into the pocket.

“Hm,” she hummed, surprised, raising her eyebrows. “Nice shot.”

He stood up straight, all happy and proud of himself. “Now, let’s see what we can do here,” he began again, walking around the table. He really had no good options, so he decided to just make Nic’s next shot practically impossible. He lined up and just barely tapped the cue ball so it hit one of his before coming to a stop against the side of the table, effectively wedged in between two other balls. There was nothing she could do there.

“Oh, well, I see how it is,” she teased, noting her predicament. She walked right up next to him, bending over to set up right in front of him.

“Fuck,” she heard him mutter quietly.

She stood up again. “Hm, what to do here…” she said as she pretended to reevaluate. When she noticed he didn’t move from where he was standing behind her, she bent over again. This time, though, she shuffled back, gently shifting her ass against his front. “Mm,” she hummed, hearing his breath quicken from behind her. She lifted her cue up and turned back to face him. “A little room here?” she asked, her chocolate orbs sparkling with playfulness and her simmering arousal.

“Right, sure,” he husked, turning her insides to mush. He stepped back just enough so she could line up properly, but not far enough so she couldn’t feel his heat.

Her heart was racing, and she took a steadying breath before taking her shot. She whacked the cue ball out of its place, careful to not hit either one of his striped balls that were on either side of her cue ball, and it slammed into one of her solids before coming back to her side of the table and sinking one of her balls, followed by the other one she hit first.

“What the—“ he marveled.

“Hm, wasn’t expecting that,” she remarked, flipping her hair out of her face.

“How the hell did that happen?” he asked again, trying to replay what just occurred.

“Not going to lie, I just got lucky there,” she giggled, walking around to the opposite side of the table to get ready for her next move. It was an easy shot, so she got it. She was down to one ball remaining, while he still had three. She didn’t make this shot, and it actually set him up quite nicely.

“Hm, well look at that,” he chuckled, lining up easily to take his first shot. He sunk that one quickly, moving on to his next shot.

“Mm, I wouldn’t go for that one,” she remarked, leaning over the table.

“You want me to try for this one?” he asked, shocked, pointing towards his 14-ball against the side of the table. “No way.”

“Let me line you up, and you’ll make it,” she added, walking towards him.

“You just want your hands on me,” he teased, following her gaze with his.

“Mm, maybe,” she began, turning him around, kicking his legs apart and leaning him over, “I do like my hands on you.”

“Not helping,” he chuckled darkly as she trailed her fingers down his arms, making him shiver even though he was burning with heat.

“This way,” she guided his hands, angling them more than he thought he needed.

“Really?” he asked.

“Trust me,” she whispered against his cheek, her lips just barely brushing there. He shivered again, and she smiled. “Aim for the wall there,” she continued, leaving her lips exactly where they were.

He did, making his shot and setting him up for his next shot beautifully. But he wasn’t looking at the balls or the game. He was looking at her, her cheeks flushed, her smile wide, her eyes dark. He really loved her. And she really loved him.

“Nice,” she remarked, their gazes still locked.

“Mhmm,” he hummed in agreement, again, not talking about the game.

“You’re going to win,” she continued.

“I already have,” he replied, setting his cue against the side of the table so he could hold her. “I won big time.”

She leaned up to kiss him, finally. God, he tasted divine. His hands felt so damn good on her body, and his lips brought her to heaven. The scruff of his beard scratched against her soft skin, reminding her that she won, too. That this was real. They were together, and they were real, and they loved each other.

“I won, too,” she added, once they finally pulled apart to coax oxygen back into their lungs.

“Hm, not this time here, you didn’t,” he teased, referencing back to their game.

“Oh, it’s not over yet,” she teased in response. “Go ahead and take this one, then let me have my turn. We’ll see how this ends.”

He chuckled, grabbing his cue again before easily making his shot. Since he took three, though, it was her turn.

She slowly moved around the table, evaluating her best course of action. Her mind was still foggy from that kiss, and she licked her lips just to taste a hint of him again. She finally decided on a plan of attack, setting up and adjusting her position. She could feel his eyes on her as she shuffled from side to side, making sure she was lined up and wouldn’t sink the 8-ball. She took her shot, tapping her final solid into the pocket, and desperately hoping the 8-ball didn’t follow. It rolled and rolled and rolled and—

It stopped. Just a hair short of falling in.

“Damn, that was lucky,” he remarked, his voice still deep from his burning desire for her.

“Mm, that time it was skill,” she whispered as she stood up right close to him. “8-ball side pocket,” she said, her eyes never breaking from his. She only glanced down when she had to set up, taking her sweet time on this relatively simple shot.

He was restless, practically pacing behind her, and she knew he wanted to get the hell out of there and go home to finish what they started. She tapped the ball, and as soon as she stood up straight, Conrad took her hand and tugged her towards him, removing the cue from her hand.

“Woah—“ she exclaimed, having no clue if her ball went in or not. But that really didn’t matter because his lips were on hers again, leaving her no room to breathe. But she didn’t need oxygen—she needed him.

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” he husked, his hands untying her flannel around her waist so he could drape it over her shoulders before they left. Her eyes were wide and dark with desire, and she nodded, setting both of their cues against the wall before he turned her around and guided her out of the front door. She turned back to glance towards the table, noting that she had sunk both the 8-ball _and_ the cue ball, meaning that he had actually won.

After they had made it back to her place, her white bedsheets draped over their naked figures, she told him, earning herself an earful of how she was being so cocky.

“Do you want to keep reaming me for being cocky, or do you want me to actually suck your cock?” she interrupted his stream of teasing.

“I— well—“ he replied, stumbling over his words.

“That’s what I thought,” she chuckled as she slipped underneath the sheets, placing her body between his thighs.

“Fuck—“ he moaned, feeling her heat against his own.

“Yeah,” she whispered against his hipbone, sucking a mark there before moving to her desired destination.

She had a damn right to be cocky—she was fucking incredible.

When she emerged from underneath the sheets, settling her weight on his chest and brushing his slightly sweaty hair back, she remembered just how lucky she was. Lucky that they had found their way back to each other. Lucky that they could learn and grow and work through all the hard stuff. Lucky that they had a bright future ahead of them. Lucky in every way.

“I love you,” he said on an exhale, running his fingers over her spine across her naked back.

“I love you, too,” she replied, shuffling up higher to kiss him.

Lucky in every way.


End file.
